


we don't want your broken parts

by Kermits_Soft_Kitty



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mpreg, Past Abuse, Sort Of, by Obadiah cus we all know he's a tosspot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-04 21:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13373289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kermits_Soft_Kitty/pseuds/Kermits_Soft_Kitty
Summary: After the sudden announcement of Steve and Bucky's wedding, Tony realises how expendable he was to them and decides to pack up and ship out before he can further make a fool of himself. Now pregnant, heartbroken, alone and unsure of what to do now his life of relative comfort has gone, Tony can only hope the luck of the draw will allow him to birth his cub and live the demure, plain life he was ultimately destined for.And, as the cliched trope goes, Tony was entirely wrong (as usual) and fate had another idea in store for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pregnancies have been altered in this universe to fit the dynamics - only male omegas and beta/omega female's can bear children. 
> 
> This is also pretty much entirely from Tony's POV so if that's not your cup of tea, don't read. Bucky & Steve don't come into it until chapter two. 
> 
> Also: I've thought of this as a Medieval setting, but some others have said it's more 1800's, so it's up to you how you view it! Just know Tony's doing a Tony and assuming things he shouldn't, Bucko and Steeb can't communicate and I can't write dialogue. x
> 
> P.S - props to whoever gets my references. They're both to the same thing. x

 

The comforting scent of the hayloft helped alleviate some of the cold pain rooted deep in Tony’s chest. Curled up amidst the neatly stacked bales, furthest away from both the ladder and the hay chutes that lead down to the stables below, the young man let himself cry quietly. There was no other sound close by, aside from the shuffling of the horses underneath the loft and the soft sounds of gentle mastication as they occupied themselves with their food, meaning that if he wanted, Tony could sob as loudly as he wished. 

 

No-one else came in here at this time of day, anyway. 

 

Outside, night had fallen, a cold snap brushing the fields with frost and rendering the pasture unpalatable for the war-horses cooped up cosily in their boxes. Tony had brought them all in himself, still aching both emotionally and physically, and he had known they had sensed his distress. One of their fieriest geldings, Minnow, who was renowned for refusing to be caught and taking you on a wild jolly around the rolling fields, had walked straight up to him without any fuss or complaint, snuffled at his neck gently, and let himself be led inside, meaning he didn’t have to trek half a mile around the pasture and catch a chill. The quiet, reassuring companionship he’d received in the wake of a truly awful evening had soothed his soul somewhat. 

 

Tony looked down at his arm, purpling awfully in the shape of his step-father's hand. He gently traced the blurred edges with his free fingers, noting the areas that were excruciatingly sore to the touch thanks to the deep grooves marked out by solid silver rings. Another was blossoming on his face, just around his eye socket and cheekbone, and several more painted themselves over his back and chest.  _Thanks, Obie_ , Tony thought. 

 

He was just thankful that his stomach was safe - free from the wailings of a man who enjoyed toying with Tony’s reality like a child enjoys teasing a dog with a hunk of meat - usually it was just a slap around the face for being insolent (because Tony loved nothing more than getting a rise out of his step-father), but Obadiah had been both heavy on the drink tonight and heavy on losing in the card games he'd inevitably found himself playing. Whilst the physical wounds hurt, they were nothing compared to the emotional ones he was nursing. 

 

Being unceremoniously dumped from what had seemed like a loving relationship like a sack of rotten potatoes would do that to a person.

 

Obadiah _had_ warned him though, Tony thought sadly as he reached into his pocket to produce the only remnant of his tangible past. He had told Tony that it would end in tears for no-one but himself when the time came, but Tony had continued with it anyway, foolish enough to think that he was more than a stupid omega bedwarmer for the two lords, more than a hole to fuck to preserve their marital purity. 

 

And now look at where it had landed him: curled up alone in the hayloft of the stables, beaten and bruised by his step-father and pregnant with a bastard child of either one of the men he’d given his heart to. Sniffing sadly, Tony traced his thumb over the small wolf dangling from the fine silver chain. It was tarnished slightly, from years of fingers rubbing over it in times of worry or delight, but it was a constant reminder than he’d _had_ something before this life here - whether it be a group of friends with whom he’d gone out pick-pocketing with, or even a family who’d been bestowed with this exquisite gift of craftsmanship.  

 

He liked to think it was the latter. 

 

The sound of rustling caught his ears, but he didn’t move, knowing the familiar gait of Toot the stable-cat. She padded up to him, eyes half-mast, tail relaxed, and settled in the curve of his body, tucked up against the barely noticeable swell of his stomach. Tony gazed down at her, hot tears dribbling down his cheeks as he tangled his fingers in her tabby fur. 

 

Tomorrow was the wedding between Lord Steve and Lord Bucky, a joyous affair for both  the lord’s home counties as they came together as one to build a stronger future. There was rumour even that the King and Queen themselves would make their way up to formally give their blessing to the pair, even despite the fact they were an unlikely marital couple to begin with, as an alpha-alpha set. Tony wondered if they’d fall in love with a female omega, ask her to bear their pups for them and cherish her the way they’d seemingly cherished Tony before he’d been discarded like a broken marionette. He stroked his stomach gently, tired out from the emotional day. 

 

Tomorrow would be the wedding.

 

The day after, Tony would be gone. 

 

—

 

Under different circumstances, Tony probably would have appreciated the day in a much more positive light. As it was, he spent most of it helping out with the servants after he’d brushed all the horses and waxed the tack for the parade that was held after the church ceremony as the newly married couple made their way from the altar to the castle for the feast. He’d dressed in his finest wear, for there couldn’t be any other means by which he could dress to wait on the upper echelons, but allowed his stays out slightly, so as not to draw attention to his swelling stomach. Normally, he’d be on Steve’s right hand side, as Keeper of the horses, but Tony reasoned he’d be more useful as a servant. Blending in seemed better now, considering he’d learnt his place as a peasant. 

 

He helped Pepper with pressing the tablecloths with the heavy irons and lighting the candles in the chandeliers, a new gift sent from the Northern Kingdom of Asgard, that send shards of dazzling light drifting around the expansive room, and allowed himself to be bossed around by Natasha as she whipped up everything needed for the banquet with calm precision. Both women stopped to ask what had happened to his face, concern shafted over their features, but didn’t pry when Tony shook his head - they had their suspicions and they were usually correct. Natasha did produce a salve that helped ease the throbbing pain in his swollen eye, though, and he graced her with a gentle buss to the cheek before going to help Bruce mix up tonics for the inevitable hangovers in the morning. The physician also looked worried when Tony entered his quarters. 

 

“What happened?” he asked, getting up from where he was grinding leaves with his mortar and pestle. He reached out, thumb sliding in the tacky residue from Natasha’s salve, eyes warring between horror and tears. Tony reached out to place his hands on the physicians broad shoulders, shaking his head. 

 

“It’s nothing to worry about, honestly,” he said soothingly, hoping the omega pheremones his gender were renowned for would calm the betas fears. “Syva knocked me for six last night when I was picking out her hooves. How many times has this happened, before?”

 

“A few,” Bruce acquiesced, remembering the fright he’d had the first time Tony had stumbled through his door with an eye as black as coke. “Does it hurt?”

 

“A bit,” Tony admitted as he began to put the tinctures in his basket to distribute to the one hundred and thirty three rooms in the castle. “Natasha’s salve has reduced the throbbing skin and everything, but I have a bit of a headache.”

 

Bruce turned away, bustling into his backroom for a moment before coming out with another bottle of liquid that was a milky white in colour. “Drink this. It’s willow bark, tumeric and cloves - nothing opiate related so you won’t spend tonight high. Make sure you shake it.” 

 

Tony took it with a smile. “Thanks.” 

 

“How are you fairing?” Bruce asked quietly after Tony had downed the concoction, grimacing at the aftertaste. He was, aside from Pepper and Natasha, the only one who knew about his tryst with the two to-be-wed lords. Tony gave him a sharp smile. Bruce had already figured out by now that things had dissolved into a mess. 

 

"This wasn't ... Steve and Bucky, was it?" Bruce asked cautiously. Despite the hurt he felt at hearing their names, a protective flame jumped alight at the insinuation and he shook his head in denial. 

 

"Oh god, no - no. No, it wasn't them. They couldn't hurt anyone if they tried."

 

Bruce shot him an arch look. "Well they managed to do it, didn't they?" he asked, a hint of venom creeping into his tone. Tony shrugged his shoulders, eyes lined with weary shadows, brows drawn low. Bruce wanted to wrap him up. 

 

“It was always going to end in heartbreak, Bruce,” Tony said, “Obie warned me and I didn’t listen. I got myself into this mess, so don’t worry. I only have myself to blame.” 

 

He picked up the delivering basket and strode out of the room before Bruce had the chance to respond. 

 

—

 

He delivered all of his tonics by mid-morning, the time when the priest was probably just about saying ‘you may now kiss your wedded’. Swallowing back his self-pity, Tony stopped outside the last door on the list, staring at the familiar grooves of the door etched over many years as Steve and Bucky grew up. No guards were around at this moment, and those that were knew Tony was delivering tomorrow morning’s pain-relief so, had there been any in the first place, he would have been allowed in here anyway. 

 

Fighting back more tears and taking a steady breath of the lesser scented air in the draughty corridor, Tony pushed it open and nearly fell to his knees as the smell of _them_ hit him like a wave of water. The room was still the same, from the bathtub against the wide bay windows where he’d enjoyed many an evening curled up against Steve or Bucky as the other relaxed by the fireplace opposite, to the expanse of bookshelves weighed down with novels and tomes like branches with heavy snow. The midmorning light poured in through the clear glass to illuminate the bed strewn with sable furs and warm, rich blankets, a space he’d thought he’d never have to leave - a space he’d never in his life thought he’d be humiliated in, despite their differences in class. 

 

Tony scooped up the hangover tonics, as well as a bottle of unscented oil for whichever high-ranking omega they eventually brought into their wedding bed that evening. Unbidden, his eyes spilled over, noting the familiar way their riding boots were stacked against the far wall, a couple of sheathed swords looped over the end of the bed by their belts, left behind in favour of the more decorative ceremonial ones that tended to be used in marriage. He let his fingers trace over the worn leather, now cold compared to the countless times he’d unbuckled them from the warm, living bodies of the alpha couple. 

 

Snatching his hand back suddenly and placing it to his stomach instead, Tony made his way over to the window, flinging it open to allow a fresh breeze to filter through. He left it like that, knowing that by the time the alphas - or whichever servant came in to light a fire - returned, they’d never know he’d been there, his scent carried away by the fingers of the wind. 

 

—

 

He headed back to the stables briefly to muck out the stalls of the war-horses and fill their buckets with fresh water. He had stable-boys, but they worked on the lower yard where the less valuable horses were (although Tony saw them all as valuable as one another, as he was wont to do as the Keeper of them all). It took him a little longer than usual, a sharp pain in his lower back labouring his progress. It took him an hour to muck out six stalls, as opposed to the usual twenty minutes, something he attributed to the cub growing inside of him. 

 

The parade returned, and the horses came back in. Tony could smell Steve and Bucky on Zamira and Ilvia respectively, their scents happy and excited, and he had to bite back the growl of anger that they didn’t miss him. 

 

Because why would they? _They were lords and he was scum to them._ Why they’d even touched him in the first place was a mystery. He untacked them as quickly as he could, knowing he would be needed to serve food within the next hour. Thankfully none of the horses needed a full washing down, only a scrub to get rid of the marks left where they’d sweated slightly under their tack. He treated them all to a carrot before sending a message down to the lower yard to make sure all of the others got one too. Harley would probably end up giving them four, but they’d all been on their best behaviour today and rarely got them, so it wasn’t too much of an issue, he reasoned. 

 

Pausing to catch his breath in the stairwell down to the kitchens once he got up there, he tried to count how many days he had before the pup would be born. Omega men started showing at only two months: they carried quicker than a female would for a standard seven, thanks to the way their bodies were made in terms of hip width and womb size. It meant that the pup was usually smaller, considered premature by female omega and female beta standards, but with the right love and attention, they could grow very rapidly. Given he must be two months in already, Tony knew he only had three to go before he’d be a mum - the energy was draining from his body already and the nausea that had struck up at the beginning was not abating. 

 

Taking in a steady, slow breath, Tony finished his descent and let himself be ordered around, falling into the familiar daze of prepping plates and dishes for Natasha. He’d been a second-hand in the kitchen before he’d gotten the role of Keeper in the stables, so Natasha knew she could rely on him to prep the food and lay it out in such a manner when it was ready that would be appealing for the upper class. She also didn’t smack him on the hand when he stole food, giving him nothing more than a gentle, if slightly appraising look. 

 

Smiling, Tony hefted the silver platters up on his arms, just in time for when the bell pulley jingled in the cacophony of the kitchens. Tony set off, ascending the floors until he got to what was considered the third from the basement, where the kitchens were, but was the first floor from the courtyard where guests and dignitaries arrived. He stopped again to catch his breath before setting off after Maisie and Christopher through the dim servants corridor, pushing out into the great hall. The guests were already seated, talking uproariously amongst themselves as they swilled delicate crystal glasses of gold wine or red liquor. A large, decorative hog sat in the centre of the long table, an apple wedged in its mouth, sprigs of holly pricking its sides. Someone, Tony suspected Pepper, had even gone to the length of gilding the edges of the holly to make it look like it had been dipped in gold. 

 

Feeling an odd movement in his stomach, nothing to do with the pup and more to do with his turbulent emotions, Tony settled his platters down in their intended spots, carefully avoiding interrupting two visiting ladies’ conversation. Oddly enough, they smiled up at him before their faces creased in worry as they no doubt caught sight of his swelling bruise. Tony smiled by way of reply before bobbing his head courteously and walking out. 

 

He ignored the head of the table. 

 

—

 

Five hours had passed and he was on his second break, curled up in Natasha’s private quarters taking a snooze, hand curled protectively around his stomach. Pepper and Natasha had promised to come and wake him when it was time to get back to work, so he sunk into a deeper sleep, reliant on the ladies to give him a shake. 

 

When he woke up, it was quiet. Blinking in the darkness, Tony listened intently, picking up nothing but the faint snores of other servants as they slumbered. By smell alone, Tony could tell that Natasha wasn’t even in here, so he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Judging by the moonlight flooding in through the small window, it was just shy of two am, meaning he had about two hours before Harley would be up and getting the horses ready for the morning routines, followed by the post nuptials hunt. 

 

Swallowing hard, Tony lit a beeswax candle and pilfered a piece of parchment and Natasha’s quill that sat next to her ink pot. 

 

_Natasha and Pepper,_

 

_I am sorry to desert you like this, but I fear it is necessary. You have been invaluable to me as both friend and family, and I hope that my disappearance causes you no ill happenings in the future. I leave my trust in you that you make sure Steven and James stay safe; what I thought I’d had with them was nothing more than a tumble, but they are prone to loving the wrong people - I as an example - and I do not wish for them to be hurt. They are good alphas and deserve the right omega._

 

_My love stays, as my body must leave._

 

_Anthony_

 

He wiped the nib of the quill with the cloth nearby and watched the ink dry on the parchment, smudged slightly with his quick scribblings. He wished he could finish it with more finality, but he had no second name. He came here with three things: a penchant for horses, the charm in his pocket and his forename. He’ll leave with four. 

 

Folding the letter and placing it on the pillow after he quietly made the bed, Tony left the castle and headed to his old home. Obadiah was snoring in his own room like a bellows, allowing Tony to skulk in and out unnoticed. He took the mink lined cloak he was gifted one year, as well as the tiny box of coins saved underneath the floorboards. Depositing them into a small sack, he tied it to his expanding belt and stole back out from the decrepit home as quietly as he’d come, not even casting more than a glance in Obadiah's direction, despite the hassle he'd grown up with. Sometimes Tony dreamed about pushing him off the top of the castle, but that would be a crime and Tony didn't particularly want to be in prison whilst carrying his pup. He had a pre-written letter to Harley already sat in the tack room, awaiting its final master when he arrives. 

 

Demeter snuffled at his neck as he entered her stall. He rubbed at her ears, producing an apple for her to munch on as he tacked her up, careful to use an old riding pad and the deliberately muddy tack he’d not cleaned since the last hunt. The horses here had two sets in rotation, but Tony had made sure this one retained the mess of the day, to mask up any scents of the household he was stealing her from. 

 

He led her out of the stables and onto the grass verge, using the fence to awkwardly mount up onto her patient back, rubbing his swollen stomach once settled. He looked up at the castle looming over them and saw that Steve and Bucky’s window was glowing with firelight. He swallowed back the lump in his throat, knowing that firelight at this time of the morning only meant that they’d be entertaining their future omega, and gently turned Demeter around, the sound of her retreating hooves muffled as they disappeared into the great forests backing Lyn Castle. 

 

—

 

Back home in Lyn, time was measured in a day. It was easy to track, thanks to the work you did and the regular periods of sleep you got. Being on the run was a different matter. Tony counted time in both jobs and money. Being quite obviously pregnant now after he swept off his cloak meant he was reduced to work such as sewing with seamsters or cleaning vegetables in the inns he bunked in. Proving he was adept at horsemanship had gotten him far in places: he’d been a groomer for a couple of weeks after a bought of virulent sickness brought a party to a standstill and they’d had to set up camp, and again at a travelling circus when one of their own had been discovered to be stealing the silverware used in the performance. After the woman had been offed, Tony had been briefly drafted in to cover and make sure the horses coats shone and that they stayed healthy, especially for one of their star actors who had to gallop around on a grey mare called Ramiba and wield his swords. Sometimes he wondered _how_ the common man and woman couldn't possibly how to take good care of a horse when, more often than not it was their means of life, but he’d been paid a good amount for it so he didn’t mention anything. 

 

He’d stashed as much money as he could, but eventually the need for food and certain tinctures to fight the headaches and sickness became paramount enough to cough up basically all he had. He couldn’t hold off when his cub was so close to being born. Demeter had also begun to get a bit thin, and he couldn’t stand knowing she was living off the scant grass verges she grazed on. After buying a weeks worth of oats for her - even though he knew oats weren’t that good for a horse with her sort of build - he found himself destitute. 

 

He was regularly finding himself fighting back tears as they walked along the roads, both from pregnancy hormones and the realisation that not only did the alphas he thought were _his_ alphas really not want him, for a search party could have easily caught up by now, but that he was homeless, heavily pregnant, feverish, malnourished and basically a criminal. At the time, taking Demeter hadn’t seemed that much of an issue. Now, passing through towns and villages where there was a warrant out for ‘omega of short stature riding a stolen horse’, it struck genuine fear into his heart. He could only hope people would think Demeter was another plain brown horse and he just a random peasant on his way to the Isle Markets down South. His cloak covered his stomach and his hair was longer than it had been, so he hoped he wouldn’t be found. 

 

He didn’t know what he’d do if he had to face trial back in Lyn. Everyone would cast him out and then he wouldn't even have Demeter for the sparse bit of company she offered him. 

 

Sniffing away his misery, Tony turned Demeter onto the path towards the lower citadel of the Kings Step, wincing at the harsh wind that blew sideways. Here, in the capital of the country, he hoped to pawn off his silver necklace, as much as it hurt to do so. He’d considered it previously in other towns, knowing it would fetch a hefty sum, but he wanted to know he was getting a good deal, and he knew the King kicked out anyone who extorted the innocent trader or buyer - something about a disloyal business partner who took too much for him and had never been seen again. He  decided to dismount before he entered the gates, knowing that standing in his cloak drew less attention than when he was sat down astride Demeter, and led her through, tying her up to a hitching post where, thankfully, there was fresh water available. She stuck her muzzle in eagerly, taking long drags of the cool liquid and Tony smiled as he walked away from her.

 

He made his way slowly up the street, impressed at how smart and clean it was. Instead of timber and straw buildings most of the towns he'd passed through were made from, the Kings Step was clearly a reflection of its wealth and the royal family who lived close by. Even the shops were made out of solid white stone, the same sort the towering castle and its upper citadel were constructed from. The buildings were constructed on two levels and sealed with slate roofs, faintly glimmering in the bright, cold light. The main street was dipped at the side, metal grates leading to the drains, and everyone looked happy as they bartered, traded and turned their craft. Tony smiled, passively wishing he could stay here in this bustling, exciting city, but he had a course set out and he had to stick to his plan for fear of being caught. He turned around and headed back up the street for a while before coming to a small shop that dealt and bought silverware. He entered, nose prickling at the scent of rubs, oils and the beta owner. 

 

“Good afternoon, sir, how can I help?” a voice asked. Tony turned to where there was a large desk, strewn with all manner of silver pieces. Clocks, keys, toys, cups and other forms of tableware were adorning the table alone - more hung in the air on hooks and others were set back on the walls on large oak shelves. It was fascinating and, had he the time, Tony could have spent ages looking around and imagining ways to melt it down to re-create something new. 

 

“I have something I’d like to sell for travels.” Tony said, drawing his attention back to the beta silver-smith and delving into the pocket of his cloak to draw out the necklace. He rubbed its tarnished body a couple of times as he held it sadly in the palm of his hand. “It’s only small, but I need the money.” 

 

He held it out, giving it to the beta who took it between long fingers. Tony watched as the mans face went from intrigued to furious. He stood up, instantly towering over Tony on legs that hadn’t seemed as long when hunched under a table, suddenly giving off the stench of anger that sent Tony stumbling backwards into a cupboard. Silver came tumbling down around him like a weird rainstorm.

“Where did you get this?” he demanded furiously, reaching out to smash his finger on a small button on his desk repeatedly. Tony could hear a bell ringing furiously outside and felt like a trapped animal. 

 

“I - I -” Tony stammered, taken aback, terrified and wholly confused. “I’ve had it my whole life, I swear.”

 

The silver-master looked furious, eyes glossed with the sheen of someone who was angry on behalf of someone else. “No. You’re a _thief_ , my boy - a wretched thief. How _dare_ y - this boy is a thief. He stole this and tried to come here and sell it.” 

 

Tony looked around, heart cold and a sweat breaking out over his body at the sight of two large alpha guards bedecked in shining armour who seemed to fill the whole shop with their intimidating bulk and smell. Tony shook his head wildly, feeling trapped and helpless and so fucking terrified he could cry all over again, if he had any tears left. 

 

“I’m not - I swear! I just - I needed the money. I’ll be gone, I promise!” 

 

The silver-master leant over the desk, glaring down his nose at Tony. “The only way you’ll be leaving here is in shackles - and _that's_ if you’re lucky.” 

 

Tony swallowed, shaking his head in terror as he babbled out apologies and promises as the alphas took him by the arms and dragged him out into the street. “No, no you don’t understand!” Tony cried out, drawing a crowd as the guards shoved him into the back of the hitched wagon, locking the grate door behind him. He knelt up, clutching the solid metal bars. “I’ve had it my whole life! I swear!”

 

The silver-master remained silent, Tony's necklace clenched in a white knuckle grip and Tony watched through blurred vision as his chest heaved with tears as the gossiping crowd receded into the distance. He slid down until he lay sideways on the hard wooden boards, closing his eyes and drawing his cloak over his face. He sobbed silently into the straw beneath his cheek, shakily clutching his stomach as he wondered what could happen to the cub now that his time had drawn to an end. 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second part is here!
> 
> Not happy with this chappie, but it'll do. I tried to succinctly explain WHY they're getting hitched whilst it runs parallel to Tony's story (and to stop y'all from thinking Steeb and Bucko are villains and shit). If you spot any discrepancies, do tell me and I'll try to make my way through them! It's hard to keep track of dates/times as well, so I'd love you if you tell me if you find some. 
> 
> Sorry if this is a bit naff! It's technically more of a filler - and it's my first time writing Bucky/Steve, so I'm still working on their loving relationship. In this it's more of a playful love, cus they've known one another so long, but it's still real, okay? Okay. And no-one got my references last time, so I'll be pleased if you get the two in this (yes, two! gosh, I really like to push the boat out, don't I).
> 
> Without further ado: enjoy!

The morning of their wedding, Steve sat at the edge of the bed wrapped up in turmoil. At the window, Bucky gazed out over the city, grey eyes watching the streets carefully for a familiar figure that he knew, deep down, would never appear. It had been three days since they’d broken the news and sent Tony fleeing from their shared room, and both Bucky and Steve had regretted doing it in such a manner ever since. 

 

“I don’t wanna do this, Buck.” Steve said quietly. Bucky turned, catching Steve worrying the horsehair bracelet Tony had gifted them. He’d been embarrassed and apologetic and said it was all he could offer for their year together, but both of the alphas had loved them. 

 

He moved over to the bed, sinking down onto the unmade covers and pressing their shoulders together. 

“I don’t either,” Bucky admitted. “But ‘is the only thing we can do - if we just merged our armies without a marital agreement then that’s grounds for a Kings Trial.”

 

“But I don’t want Tony to think we don’t love him. I … I just want to _tell_ him.” Steve exclaimed, getting up and pacing around the room in frustration. Bucky watched him, eyebrows caught up in a worried arch. 

 

“Once the day’s over, we’ll head down to the stables and ask around. He’ll be there tonight f’sure. Natasha mentioned Obadiah had lost a lot of games at the tavern the other night ‘nd Bruce said Tony came in with bruises.” 

 

“He did?” Steve asked, worried. “Is he okay?” 

 

Bucky shook his head as he shrugged. “Physically, no, I don’t think so - Bruce said he’d been beaten up real bad, Stevie.”

 

“ _God_ I want to put him in the stocks.” Steve snarled, slamming his hand against the wooden table hard enough that the bowl of soft fruit in the centre jumped as though startled. 

 

“You and me both, doll.” Bucky admitted. “I tried to get word out to Tony through the guys that we wanted to see him but he’s not ‘bin seen by anyone but, it seems, Obadiah, since we broke the news.” 

 

Steve was silent for a while, pressing his hands hard into the wooden table as he hung his head. The pervading scent of misery crept out from his body, tickling Bucky’s nose. He got up, feeling his body mirror Steve’s emotions. He wrapped his fingers around Steve’s jaw, framing his handsome, heartbroken face in his trembling touch. 

 

“We’ve been fatheads, doll. ‘Aint no pussyfootin’ around that. But … we can’t let him run. We need t’ explain what’s been goin’ on once everything’s said and done.” 

 

“I know.” Steve sighed. “God. Look at me. I should be telling you it’s gonna be alright,” Steve said in a choked off sob. “You’re the one who got fucked over by Hydra’s blood magic.” 

 

Bucky smiled shakily and leant forwards to capture Steve’s mouth in a gentle kiss. 

 

“I’ve had a bit longer to come to terms with it, dollface.” Bucky said. “But that don’t mean’ I ‘aint gonna give ‘em what for when we turn the tide.” 

 

Steve laughed, pressing their lips together again in a far dirtier echo of that first touch. The only thing that would have made it better would have been Tony, and by tonight they vowed to have him back. 

 

—

 

“How have _they_ taken your nuptials?” 

 

Steve glanced up into Prince Thor’s blue eyes. He darted a glance around: only Bucky, Jane, Darcy and Sif were close by - the women were talking about the best way to use a hidden dagger to slice a mans throat open and Bucky had turned towards Thor and himself. 

 

“ _They_ haven’t heard of it yet, apparently.” Bucky murmured, keeping his voice pitched low as they subtly spoke about Hydra back home. “Mum sent a falcon with her best wishes it played out ‘nd that they’d evacuate the townsfolk as soon as I got home.” 

 

Steve nodded to where his mother and father were sat just along from them, at the central head of the table. He and Bucky were at the end, on the Lord’s left, and Thor began the next table that ran lengthways down the centre of the room. It gave them a cosy corner in which to converse. 

 

“Did they not think it peculiar that your mother and father didn’t attend?” Thor intoned. Bucky shook his head, sipping at his wine. 

 

“They claimed my sister took ill ‘nd mother wished to look after her, ‘nd that father was meetin’ with tradespeople to try and figure out a way of replenishing the crops.”

 

“They’re tainted with black magic, no?” Thor asked. “Loki sensed it as we passed your borders and wondered why you still tried.”

 

Bucky nodded. “It was their way of tightenin’ control,” he said bitterly. “Kill the crops, take control of the citadel and then hypnotise their son into becomin’ a ruthless killer. Turn everyone against the family so they’d be happy when Hydra slithered in their stead.” 

 

Steve reached out and took his hand. “Hey. You know they suspected something the moment you went to shoot that kid. Stop beating yourself up. We’re gonna _oh my god_.” 

 

Bucky glanced up and saw what had caused Steve’s hoarse exclamation. Tony was placing a platter down on the table, ducking between Jane and Darcy, his face a mottled canvas of aubergine, ochre, vermillion and coke. The alphas could sense Tony’s misery and pain, both physically and emotionally, and they wanted nothing more than to jump out of their seats and wrap him up in blankets and kiss away the pain. But doing that meant jeopardising Tony’s safety, however much Steve and Bucky had been dicks to him. They knew that Hydra was unaware of Tony’s involvement - only their parents, Thor and Jane, Darcy and Sif and three of Tony’s close friends, Bruce the Court Physician, Natasha the cook (who also doubled up as knight trainer) and her fiancé Pepper, who handled the running of the servants and kitchens, knew about their relationship with the omega. Doing anything now could alert a mole they _knew_ was somewhere in the castle.

 

Steve felt his father falter to his right as he too caught sight of Tony. The man looked awful, even underneath the bruising, white as a sheet and as peaky as anything with a sheen of perspiration clinging to his temples. He placed his platter down and gave Jane and Darcy a tight smile as they stopped their conversation to look up worriedly at him before disappearing back into the kitchen without even glancing at the head of the table. 

 

“I’ll be glad when this is over,” Joe mentioned gruffly, clenching his hand around his knife. “I spoke to the priest,” he added in an extremely low murmur as he ducked his head to talk to his son, “And he was more than willing to nullify the marriage once 'it' is over.” 

 

Despite the horror at seeing Tony in such a state, Steve felt his chest burst with delight and excitement and pride at those words. Not only did his father approve of Tony, despite his supposed ‘station’ as a Keeper, but it seemed the whole county of Lyn was willing to rally behind them to remind Tony he was deeply loved by Steve and Bucky. He muttered this to his ‘husband’ who suddenly bled out a joyous sort of scent that lifted the dull, dismal atmosphere they’d been holding onto ever since their arrangement had been proposed by a less than eager Lord Barnes. 

 

“We’ve not got long,” Bucky said. “We ride out to Boro tomorrow and, by the next day, Hydra should be dealt with.” 

 

“I spoke to father about your situation,” Thor said. “And he is willing to put forth troops - Loki said he could probably unwind the magic that turns your mind when you set foot in your county, so you may fight with a clear head.” 

 

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “What’s the catch?”

 

“Not much,” a voice purred in his ear. Bucky jumped, much to Steve’s amusement. Loki propped his hip on the table, ever the snake in his green and black ensemble. “I only wish for one evening with Anthony when he returns.” 

 

“No.” Steve said bluntly. Loki raised an eyebrow. 

 

“Are you sure you want to risk _both_ of your lovers, Rogers?” he asked, voice hiding too many meanings for Steve to unravel. Thor shoved at his brother’s shoulder with his spoon. Loki wiped off the cream from his doublet with barely concealed derision.  

 

“What do you want to do with Anthony, brother? If you pull the snake thing on him I’ll beat you to the floor with my chamberpot.”

 

Loki smiled, viper-like. “I wish nothing more than to provide him with a blessing. I can give you my word on our ancestors graves I do not wish anything untoward his little family.” 

 

Thor turned to them, eyebrows raised as he shrugged. “He can’t go against the ancestors words. He did it once as a kid and my father’s great grandmother turned up as a donkey and kicked him in the codpiece.” 

 

“It would have been better if I’d had the codpiece _on_ , but yes. She did.” Loki muttered, glancing away, hand outstretched to the alphas. Bucky and Steve looked at one another before shaking his cool hand one at a time. Loki gave them a small bow and disappeared. 

 

“He’s a weird one, isn’t he?” Darcy spoke up, doing her lazy feline-grin as she eyed Steve and Bucky up, amused at their reaction to Thor’s half brother. Thor seemed to say something in reply, but the alphas were distracted again by the reappearance of Tony, this time bearing a platter of cold cheese and olives from the Cyclades, a favourite of Tony’s. 

 

They watched him go and return as the night wore on, a sense of heavy sadness resting in their hearts. Whilst it was meant to be a merry evening, the overshadowing sense of loss and guilt and concern for their omega was too hard to push past. The upcoming fight wasn’t a particularly happy thought either, and by the time they retired to bed at half eleven, they were too keyed up to sleep. Steve headed to the well in the base of the castle to open up the pulley system that pumped water into their bedroom. They’d have to leave it for a long while until it heated, so it was gone two in the morning when Bucky finally sank into the lightly fragranced water. Together they sat, watching the moonlight pass overhead, secure in the knowledge that tomorrow, they could straighten some of their gigantic clusterfuck out. 

 

—

 

“What the _FUCK_ did you do to him?”

 

Steve and Bucky startled from their bed early the next morning, senses pinging at an all time high as Pepper swept into their room without even knocking, brandishing a smeared piece of parchment that smelled strongly of Tony. 

 

“Whah?” Bucky asked tiredly, startled from the sudden awakening. He rubbed his eyes and reached out for the parchment, scanning it with a growing sense of dread. 

 

“We left him asleep in Natasha’s room, and by the time we got there at four he was _gone_. Harley got a letter too - apparently he took Demeter and just - he just _left,_ you fucking fatheads!” Pepper snarled, looking all the more like an alpha than a beta. She’d grown very protective of Tony over the years as they’d gone up the ranks together. 

 

“Oh shit,” Steve cursed, voice heavy with dread as he swung himself out of bed and to the window, as though he fancied he had sharp vision and could see Tony riding in the distance. “Oh shit, oh _shit_ , _oh shit_.” 

 

“Yeah we got that, knucklehead,” Bucky bit out, sighing heavily. “ _Fuck_. We were gonna go see him today, I swear - we were gonna tell him the bare bones but make sure he knew we still loved him.” he got up, not bothered by Pepper’s presence as he stalked around and threw on some clothes. The beta followed as they finished getting dressed and headed into the breakfast hall where Steve’s parents were already waiting. 

 

“He’s gone.” Steve said bluntly. “And we don’t know where too. We need to send people out - or at least put the word out.” 

 

Sarah looked horrified, dropping one half of a pink and yellow citrus fruit that Thor had brought with them. “Did he say what for?” she asked, knowing who they were on about instantly. The alphas shrugged. 

 

“Not really - he seems to think he’s unworthy of our love ‘nd that - ” he glanced at the paper, shaking his head as he read out “ - we’re _prone to loving the wrong people - I as an example - and I do not wish for them to be hurt. They are good alphas and deserve the right omega._ ”

 

“You cannot fault him for thinking you would bed someone else,” Joe pointed out gravely. “It is a custom to do so - I’m disappointed you didn’t communicate with him quicker, Steven.”

 

“I know.” Steve murmured. “God, this is all so screwed. What are we to do?” 

 

There was silence as they pondered the thought, the room full of tension and worry at what to do about Tony’s sudden departure. Eventually, Sarah spoke up. 

 

“We’ll put out a notice for him towards the Southern Isles; as you pass through to Boro, mention to the townsfolk about your situation and that you’re looking for an omega on a bay horse. Someone will give up some information, if he headed towards the Outer Isles or Asgard.” 

 

Bucky and Steve nodded, and from Steve’s right, Pepper let out a huff as she turned to them, skirts sweeping the floor. Her arms were folded and her hair pinned back in place, but her cheeks were pink with fury on behalf of her best friend, eyebrows draw low over shadowed eyes. Both he alphas suddenly realised what she was quite capable of, with her fiancés knives close at hand. 

 

“I fear for your balls if you don’t find him. Natasha’s  _so_ pissed.” Pepper snarled before she swept out of the room. There was a beat before Joe coughed politely.  

 

“I always did like Pepper.” 

 

—

 

The trek to Boro was long and weighed down by driving rain. The cold winds tore through their clothes, and no-one had seen Tony or Demeter. For fear of going on and boring folk to death themselves, the fight was bloody but thankfully brief; Bucky went in first, under the guise of returning home. Loki had worked his magic to unwind the binds from Hydra, so it only took a bit of masterful acting on Bucky’s part to seem like the same brute they’d managed to create, and eventually he managed to stab the slimeball who was ordering him around in the throat before sending out the signal, his falcon Azu, into the sky to let Steve know it was time for his troops to attack. It meant that the second in command, Zola, was at least dead, so there wouldn’t be a line of succession once Skull was felled. Thor came in as a last wave with his small but mighty army when it seemed like perhaps they’d lose, but they ploughed through the remaining Hydra footsoldiers, beaming in the face of death and fighting, as they was wont to do, and within about an hour it was over and Boro was relinquished from its magical plague. Bucky seasoned the sweet deal by driving his blade through Skull’s withered black heart, bringing an end to both his own and Boro’s suffering 

 

They stood there for a mighty moment once it was over, watching with joy as grass and flowers wove their way over the blighted ground like the most wondrous tapestry, obscuring the dead from view. Those that were innocent ended up as sapling trees, and those that were tainted with the dark magic just dispersed into ash, Mother Nature’s unique way of thanking them for their help. 

 

Bucky and Steve met one another blindly on the field as the realisation it was over came to a head. The others celebrated around them with cheers and song, bloodied and bruised and beaten but all in one peace. With a clash of armour, they came together in an intimate embrace, neither unable to stop their beaming smiles as they pressed their mouths together in an awkwardly executed kiss far too full of teeth, laughing joyously. They dropped to their knees and Steve pressed their foreheads together, letting them share the private space for a moment as they came down from their high. Blood streaked Bucky’s cheekbone, and he wiped it away before kissing him again, letting the moment linger in the newfound safety of Boro’s rejuvenated fields. 

 

“We’ll get him back, baby.” Steve whispered through his hot tears, pushing his hand to the back of Bucky’s neck and squeezing hard. “We’ll get him back.” 

 

Tired out and emotionally strained from the turmoil he’d been put through, Bucky pressed his face into Steve’s warm, salty neck and cried. 

 

—

 

After sending their troops back home after a few nights in Boro and bidding farewell to the Asgardians, they set out to find their lost omega. Their search sent them far and wide, a travelling circus master whom they passed on the trade road to the Outer Isles up North, Phineas, claiming that he’d drafted an omega in down South to help with the horses for a bit, and an inn they kipped in one evening saying they’d employed a similar man as a seamster for a while. Here and there, tales of Tony's presence popped up like rabbits do out of a hole when there are hunting hounds nearby and they keep on the lookout. Whilst the news was good, no-one seemed to have a definitive answer of _where_ he could be. 

 

Then, as they passed through Perhattan, a small town located just West of the capital city, they overhead a young falconer excitedly telling a growing crowd that someone had just been arrested in the King’s Step for thievery of the King and Queen’s jewellery. 

 

Steve and Bucky exchanged a glance and didn’t hesitate to push their horses through the town’s thronging crowd, straight in the direction of the King’s Step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boro: '(Boro)ugh' taken from 'Borough of New York'
> 
> Lyn: 'Brook(Lyn)' 
> 
> Perhattan: Up(Per) Man(Hattan)
> 
> I tried to be clever and I enjoy making new words out of our current ones.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: at the end, there is moderately graphic description of birth and the whole chapter has allusions to contractions. If that isn't your jam, wait until the next chapter. There's also a moment where Tony throws up, but it isn't described. 
> 
> I split the last chapter into two because it just had a nice cliffhanger. 
> 
> Thanks for your comments, guys! Can't deny, some will be disappointed probably with this after you said what you liked and disliked, but there's something up ahead I've liked exploring, so maybe that will sway your opinion. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it anyway! 
> 
> No beta, please point out any discrepancies/errors/numerical issues/grammatical issues. Like I said, it's hard to link things up when you're fresh back into writing again - I haven't done this for a while! Thank you for your support! x
> 
> No-one's been guessing at the references! If anyone did want to know and couldn't be bothered to ask, they're from The Greatest Showman and Sherlock Holmes.

 

Sweat prickled at his brow as he shivered in his cell. He’d been dumped here unceremoniously two days ago and since then had only been given water to drink. His cub was getting restless, feet pressing into his empty stomach and full bladder, and sharp pains that spread from his stomach down to his sex were beginning to make themselves known. He carefully breathed through them; he'd had a few of these feelings before so he wasn't particularly worried. He had no clue whether the guards even had an inkling about whether he was pregnant or not - his cloak had remained clasped and, thankfully, on his person. He thought it was perhaps his only salvation because without it, he would have frozen to death.

 

The winter here was harsher than in Lyn, and the fact the window had no glass didn’t help things. He had been watching the past two nights as frost slowly formed on the bars of the small opening, blessed by the passing watch of the moon. It was a sort of morbid beauty he was allowed privy to down here, the natural wonder interspersed with only a few other coughs of other prisoners. He'd tried to talk to them but they just stared at him, either not understanding his tongue or not wanting to associate themselves with him. 

 

He'd attained a deep sense of finality in his gut for the time he sat there, withering away in his cell. He’d die eventually, if not from the sentence he was given for supposedly stealing something he didn’t realise had any value other than monetary, then from the sickness ravaging his body. He had once thought perhaps he’d be able to get over whatever he'd contracted before the cub came, but now he knew that wasn’t to be.

 

He could only hope that once his baby was born, it would be given to the hands of a family who would love it, instead of being put in an orphanage. He thought he’d picked the sickness up perhaps from the party that had been taken down back at the inn, where he earned some money taking care of their horses, which would have made sense, but with the amount of paths he’d crossed with numerous potential carriers over the course of his travels, coupled with his waning strength and lack of decent nourishment, he could have picked up whatever he was struggling with anywhere.

 

Feeling faintly like he'd been in this situation before, Tony awkwardly leant down in the meagre straw bedding he’d been given to soften the harsh flagstone floor and let himself stew in self-pity. In a cruel facsimile of two months ago, he was crying again, though this time round he had no hope: he had no friends, no place to stay, no job and a criminal trial god knows when, following the return of the King and Queen. Back in Lyn, he’d at least had a roof over his head, friends in the form of the horses, Natasha, Bruce and Pepper, and the knowledge that, even though Bucky and Steve didn’t love him, they wouldn’t make him leave a job he’d genuinely loved, for they knew he was talented at it. 

 

Picking up a blade of the off-brown coloured straw, Tony pressed it to his mouth, chewing on the stale end as he closed his eyes and tried to remember what it was like to be warm. He’d never been as cosy as he had curled up against Steve or Bucky’s bodies in the bath, skin flushed and sweating in a good way as candlelight flickered in time with the fire. The memory of the alphas, Bucky with his stern mouth and kind eyes, Steve with his beaming smile and gentle touches, made him both smile and hurt in the most viciously beautiful way. He hoped that, even though he could never stop loving them, they would find the one they truly cherished now his presence wasn’t looming over them like a black mark.

 

He _should_ have stopped when he’d had the chance, _should_ have listened to Obadiah’s warning. The beta had repeatedly reminded Tony he was nothing but lowly scum, an omega born from a whore mother who didn’t want him anymore. He’d been abandoned, Obadiah said, abandoned on his doorstep where _he’d_ had the wherewithal and grace to take him in and raise him - and Tony had ignored his plentiful warnings in favour of a tryst he’d thought was a relationship. 

 

Now he finally saw the bigger picture, it hurt and stung, more to know Obie was right than anything.

 

He dipped his hand under his cloak, breathing through the pain as he shifted, and rubbed at his stomach to soothe the restless cub. A trembling, stilted song erupted from the back of his heart, a soothing sort of melody that felt warm and honest on his lips. It offered him a bit of hope, in this dank, despairing cell, that perhaps his cub could live if he managed to plead his case long enough for them to be born. There was salt on his cheeks again, but he had neither the energy or desire to stop them. 

 

—

 

He was roused mid-morning the next day and given a small cup of warm water to drink.

“Time to go,” the guard said, standing in the doorway of his cell. He was dressed in less intimidating wear than the ones who’d arrested him. Instead of the rippling plates of armour and towering pikes with the crimson banner of the kingdom wrapped around its nape, this guard was bedecked in soft clothes that looked slightly worn around the edges, his boots scuffed and faintly smelling of horse to Tony's over-sharp senses. Tony didn’t reply for there was really nothing to reply with, taking the water and finishing it quickly, throat parched and on fire. He threw it back up before it even had time to settle and the guard looked a bit disgusted but also, oddly enough, worried, great lines of concern and affection scored over his skin.

 

Tony knew he probably looked a mess, although he’d not seen in a looking mirror for a good several months now. Despite that, he could still feel the sweat trickling down his temples despite his chill, hair half stuck to his forehead, pulse throbbing against his cheeks. The bruise Obadiah had dealt him that had, by now, faded, still hurt in a ghostly sort of manner, almost as though it were his step-father's way of laughing at his predicament, even though he couldn't possibly know what he was tied up in now. 

 

The guard came forwards and crouched down to shackle his wrists together before helping him up. Tony wasn't sure what he could achieve even with them off, but he supposed it was custom and let the man do it.

 

“Th’nks.” Tony said, disorientated. The world was swimming around him violently as he spread his legs to find his balance, blurring into a blob of blue, grey and white and it hurt to move his eyes far from central. The guard didn’t say anything, but his scent gave off waves of pity and worry. 

 

Another guard joined them at the door to the dungeons, and together they led him up and into the warmer air of the palace. The building was understated luxury, fresh and bright thanks to the white walls. He waddled along aimlessly, relying on the guards to poke him in the direction they wanted him. Sometime in the night he must have urinated without knowing it, because his breeches were sodden and clammily sticking to his thighs, and his cheeks heated up at the thought. He was pleased the guards hadn’t removed his cloak. 

 

They came to a stop outside a set of heavy oaken doors. The guard on Tony’s right said something about having an audience, but he was too exhausted to listen properly, so he just nodded. The doors were opened after a brief and brisk knock, and Tony found himself staring into an opulent grand hall, even grander than the one back in Lyn Castle. Courtiers were stood flanking a piece of the shining floor Tony supposed he had to walk up, their gowns and cloaks in expensive looking material and colours rustling and shifting to follow him as he made his way to where he assumed the King and Queen were. Large, opulent windows scaled the height of the walls on either side, devoid of the more common coloured glass so that the whole hall was bright and airy, a reflection of the rest of the city. 

 

He half stumbled at one point, surprised to find a hand shooting out to steady him. It belonged to the kind eyed guard, and up close, Tony could see he was actually about his age, maybe older. In his dizzy state, Tony found himself smiling before a sudden false-contraction hit him and his face crumpled up in pain. He pulled his wrists out so the edges of the manacles cut into his flesh, distracting himself from the baby related agony as best he could, and turned to duck his face and continue up the aisleway. 

 

He came to a halt and kept his head bowed, overwhelmed with the smells of so many new betas, alphas and the occasional omega. There was a deep set cramping beginning in his lower stomach, constant and painful.

 

“Look up,” a  quiet, gentle sort of voice said. Tony did as he was told and raised his head, coming face-to-face with the King and Queen of the Kings Step. A boy maybe four years younger than Tony flanked the King’s right hand side, assessing Tony with serious, weighted eyes. He was wearing the headpiece of the Crown Prince, so Tony presumed it was their son. He bowed as deeply as he could around his swollen stomach, losing his balance slightly and sidestepping to regain it. 

 

“Do you know why you stand here?” the King asked after he'd called for the whispers of the courtiers to settle down. 

 

Tony’s face crumpled slightly. “I don’t, sire. I really don’t,” he admitted. “Whatever it is I did, I didn’t know what it was. Honestly.”

 

He took in a tremulous breath and screwed up his face as another contraction hit, this time lasting long enough that he had to fist his hand into his cloak and pinch the skin of his thigh to keep himself quiet. He wanted to scream, to bend over, to pace - anything to just _stop_ the pain, but he was in front of the King and Queen so he had to shut the fuck up and deal for now until they passed. His water hadn’t broken yet, so he wouldn’t be giving birth right now - he had a little time. 

 

“The silver-master says differently,” the King pointed out. He reached into his pocket and produced Tony’s tarnished wolf. It swung gently on its chain, catching the bright light of the sun that poured in at the windows. “You know what this is?”

 

“It’s the necklace I wanted to sell,” Tony said tiredly, swaying on the spot. A ripple of talk kicked up amidst the courtiers, already gossiping and speculating about something they knew nothing about. “I needed the money.”

 

“Why?” the Queen asked contemplatively. Tony swallowed through a sore throat. 

 

“I was headed to the No-Man’s Forest, near the Southern Isles. I - I got into a spot of bother and I needed the money because my horse is - ” he broke off, eyes wide as the realisation sunk in. “My horse! Is my horse - I left her on the hitching post at the entrance of the city - is she -”

 

“She’s okay,” the son said, face creased with what looked like interest. His eyes were inquisitive, a shock of dark hair bisected by the thin circlet. “Bay, two white socks and a stripe?” 

 

Tony breathed out a sigh of relief and nodded. 

 

“Demeter, the missing horse from Lord and Lady Rogers’ stableyard?” the King pressed on, raising a speculative eyebrow.

 

Tony he closed his eyes, the truth quickly weaselled out amidst his sinking heart. He nodded and the talk kicked into life again around him. He ignored then all, turning his face down to the floor. 

 

“So that’s a stolen horse and a stolen charm,” the King said. “What else have you stolen on your travels, boy?”

 

Tony shook his head in desperation, feeling the kind faced guard squeeze his upper arm in what he presumed was a warning. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, sire. I’ve had the necklace since before I could remember and I only borrowed Demeter to get out of the city b - _aahhahrgh -_ _gods!_  ” he tailed off into a cry of raw pain as his breath caught high in his throat. His knees gave way and he collapsed, wide eyed, to the floor, one hand trying to clutch at his stomach as the other broke his fall. It felt like there was something try to to rip out of his gut with sharp claws - it couldn’t be the pup, could it?! 

 

A rustle of skirts and a murmur of voices echoed in the hall, and several pair of hands helped him move to sit down, but at his cry of pain they moved him until he was leant against the chest of the kind knight, heaving in gulps of air to stay awake. Yet more fingers unlocked the manacles and once they were free he clutched at his stomach, letting out a quiet wail as he clenched his teeth. His cheeks were wet and hot, and the shooting pains were spreading down his stomach and across his hips, causing his pubic bone to ache ferociously. The cloak had slipped away at some point during his fall to the floor, and he knew that the resultant gossip would spread like a match set against dry brush.

 

“I don’t - I don’t get it. My water - it hasn’t broken. I’m sorry.” Tony sobbed, “I’m sorry - I didn’t mean for this to happen, I swear, _I swear_.” He panted through another contraction that turned into a long wail, prompting the knight behind him to rub at the small of his back as though to try and ease some of the scorching agony. “I’ve had the charm for my whole life, ever since Obie took me in and I -”

 

“Obie?” the King asked, interrupting him in an oddly steady tone. Tony realised that both the King and the Queen were directly next to him, the Queen's magnificent ruby gown billowing out around them, the knees of the King's breeches getting dusty as they knelt on the floor. Their son hovered, looking torn between kneeling too and running off to get the things his parents had just yelled the servants to collect. There was a look on the King’s face that suggested he knew Tony’s step-dad. 

 

“Obadiah,” he clarified, breath whistling through clenched teeth as he huffed through the pain. “He … he's my step-father. He took me in 'cus I- I’m an orphan.” 

 

King Howard looked torn, gazing straight into Tony’s eyes, his own brimming with an emotion Tony could'nt place. Tony wondered why the King was staring so intensely at the eyes of a peasant, but then again, Tony briefly thought, the Queen is sat next to me and I’m about to shove a whole child out of my body on the parquet floor of the great hall, so maybe this was commonplace for the people in this kingdom. 

 

“Take him to one of the rooms,” Howard said after exchanging a pregnant pause with the Queen. Howard seemed to have found what he needed in Tony’s gaze and was calling out orders to bring the silver-smith up to the castle, sent out messengers to Lyn and other Kingly demands. “Arno - find the guards who put him in the cell in the first place - they should have checked his condition. _God knows_ what they were thinking putting a pregnant omega in the dungeons.” 

 

“Yes, father.” 

 

The guard knelt behind Tony helped him up from the floor, another assisting the Queen, before leading him out slowly down the hall, patiently waiting as contraction after contraction hit and he sweated a waterfall over the nice clear floors. The kindly guard who had taken him from his cell at the start of the day let him squeeze his hand, his soothing beta scent enough to distract him slightly from the pain.

 

"In here," Maria ordered, pushing open heavy wooden doors into a room that looked fit for visiting royalty. Tony would have appreciated it, but he felt sick and confused and shivery and - _fuck_. He’d just relieved himself unintentionally on the floor after magically appearing maids helped taken his breeches and boots off. 

 

Queen Maria smiled at his embarrassed face, reaching out to lead him to the bed as a maid casually cleaned his crap up as though it were merely horse shit. “Don’t worry. It happens to a lot of people. You can’t control your bladder or colon when you’re contracting. Totally normal.”

 

A bustling midwife who had been summoned from god knows where helped him prepare for the birth, wiping his fevered body down with cool cloths as he leant against one of the bedposts, completely unbothered by the fact that there were people staring at his bare body - he was both grateful there were people actually here with him and burning up from the inside as his cub shifted around, trying to come out as quickly as possible. Tony didn't know how he ever believed he could have delivered the cub alone in the forests - even _he_ knew deep down that it wasn't meant to hurt this badly. The midwife had noted how warm he was and how he smelled of sickness and prepared a sick bucket and plenty of water by the bedside. The Queen, weirdly enough, stayed, despite the midwife’s concerns that blood and other fluids may stain her gown. 

 

“I need to be here for him, Thelda.” she said by way of explanation, running a cool hand over his hairline that he barely noticed as he half screamed, half groaned into the bedpost as another knife-sharp jab of pain lanced through his body, hands hotter than the boiling seas taking apart his spine piece by piece, carving deep wounds into his chest and hips at random. 

 

Thelda didn’t argue, nodding once as she checked Tony’s dilation. They began to count down between rapidly close contractions, propping him in the birthing chair to make the slide of his cub as easy as possible. Tony hoped that Mother Nature would pull her out with a delicate touch. 

 

He didn’t know what he would do if Her grip slipped and his baby never woke up. 

 

Vaguely he registered that the Queen was still there, wiping at his tears and perspiration and seemingly unperturbed by this complete stranger giving birth next to her, deep, throbbing waves of calming omega scent pressing into his nose. He knew he’d be indebted to her for this, and only hoped he could rebuild his life in the Kings Step. Maybe help with the blacksmith or someth-

 

“ _I can’t do it_ , oh my god,” Tony cried, chest heaving. “I can’t - you gotta stop. I caaa _aaahhah.”_

 

“I’m sorry, sweet,” Thelda said in a motherly manner that spoke of how many times she’d helped omegas and betas give birth, “But you gotta do it if you want the pain to stop. The pup hasn’t got long to go; a few more pushes and we're done .” 

 

Sweat trickled down his temples, both from his fever and trying to deliver his cub, and he only hoped he’d survive - although his chances were slim apparently with the way the midwife was calling for the physician _immediately_ , _we have a serious issue here_. He felt sick and dizzy and barely able to push when the Queen told him too. Everything hurt, from the tips of his ears, to the muscles in his arm clinging to the seat underneath him, to where he was quite literally tearing down below, blood stinging the fresh wounds, and it was too much effort to push the final time, too much effort to think, and eventually, too much effort to blink. 

 

He wasn’t sure if his cub was born before he drifted away, someone screaming his name in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things you may notice: 
> 
> Capitalisation of non-capitalised things: This is deliberate and purely only to denote status (King, Queen, etc). Whilst you don't usually capitalise these words, I wanted to because this is a fictional world and in fictional worlds you can change things. 
> 
> Giving birth: a birthing chair is actually suggested to be better than giving birth on a bed as gravity is helping you out. Not all prefer it though, but when I wrote this I had the medieval period in mind, when there were sort of common.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 16/09/2018 - minor corrections and updates made.
> 
> Alright, alright, that's what I'm talkin' about! The final chapter!
> 
> Sorry for the late update, but I had to head to London for business reasons (but I got to go to Parliament which was neat. So many guns. So many policemen) and didn't get back until late. 
> 
> Ngl, not too happy with this, but I wanted to keep it realistic to the plotline and sort of realistic to real life (or Tony, Bucky and Steve's 'real' life). 
> 
> Unbeta'd, yet again, so there may be errors (particularly with Arno/Arto) so please give me a heads up if you find one. 
> 
> And finally, thank you for coming on this brief journey with me! It's been my most successful story so far, and my first ever multi-chapter fic, so it's been a joy to receive your comments, kudos and bookmarks. It really does encourage us to write more!
> 
> Enjoy!

Time came and went, blurred with a burning haze that confused him every time he woke up. He barely remembered much of it, a gentle voice here and a touch of the cool, mint scented cloths there. Sometimes he mistook the broad hands of a nursing servant for that of Bucky and Steve, and he probably said their name a lot too. Once or twice, flashes of fiery red hair appeared in his eyeline, sometimes accompanied by the herb and grass smell of Bruce. The black hair of the young prince shifted into focus once or twice, his smell both foreign and starkly familiar.

 

A smile here, the rub of a wrist against his throat there - and a new scent. Fresh and clean and clear and _his._

 

He blinked his eyes open at one point to find a demure looking man standing over him with a wet cloth in his hand. Tony could smell his comforting beta smell instantly, and his kind eyes meant him no harm. He wasn’t dressed like a servant but he wasn’t garbed in the overtly ostentatious clothing of nobility either; he was smack bang in the ‘middle’ of the social classes, Tony thought after his mental faculties had fully returned well after his sickness.

 

“Good evening,” the beta greeted in a low voice. He placed the cloth on Tony’s head and some of the tightness in his shoulders he hadn’t realised he’d been holding from the moment he woke up slipped away. The beta laughed at Tony’s confused look. “You’ve met me a few times before, sir.” 

 

“I’hve?” Tony slurred out, turning his head and wincing at the tightness there. He was sure if he dared move anything else he’d been sore, given the arri- _holy shit._

 

“M’cub! Where is she?” Tony cried, suddenly filled with terror. He struggled to sit up, burning hot agony lancing through his body as new aches and pains made themselves known. The beta hurriedly pressed on his shoulders, easily pushing him back down again despite his desperate pleas for his cub.

 

“Sir! Sir, she’s okay. You need to calm down. She’s safe - she’s just feeding with a wet nurse. I promise you she’s okay.” 

 

Tony stared up at the beta with wide, watery eyes, the fight gone as easily as it had arrived. “She?” Tony asked with wonder, feeling elated and sick and fulfilled all at the same time. 

 

“Yeah,” the beta said with a smile. “She’s healthy and happy.” 

 

Tony gazed up at the beta and managed to bring out a wobbly smile. He was feeling tired and sick still, and the light was rapidly draining from his vision as he sank back into sleep. 

 

“Whass y’r name?” he managed, barely remembering his manners. The beta smiled again. 

 

“Phil.” 

 

—

 

He woke up again later on feeling a bit better, guessing it had been a while since he’d last been aware. The last thing he could remember was Phil the beta and the all-encompassing panic of realising he didn’t have his cub close by. 

 

This time, the blind panic didn’t even get blown into a flicker of a flame: she was there beside him, lying on her back with her tiny legs and arms kicking out wildly as a blonde man dangled a small woven toy above her. She was squealing and cooing as her attention was occupied and Tony felt himself begin to cry out of sheer joy. He’d known her for next to a minute and he was deeply, irrevocably in love with her. His heart swelled to thrice it’s size and he reached out with a weighted arm to stroke at one of her flailing, chubby legs. 

 

His cub made a curious nose and turned her tiny head to him. 

 

“Hey,” Tony whispered, reaching up to cup her head in his palm. She squealed again, mouth breaking into a wide, gummy smile. 

 

 _She recognised him_. 

 

“We’ve been careful to make sure she knows who her mummy is,” the blonde man spoke up. Tony looked over at him. “I mean, she loves me the most _of course_ ‘cus I got her the toy, didn’t I, cub, _yes I did_.” 

 

“Clint, stop being an ass.” 

 

Tony forced himself to sit up, not only to see the two people in his room but to scoop up his cub finally in his arms. She settled immediately against his neck, mouthing aimlessly at his skin and he wanted to cry some more at how perfect she was. A clatter of wood against wood made him look up to see Phil, the beta who had tended to him god knows how long ago, setting a tray down  on the table in the centre of the room, loaded with fruits and various pots of liquid. 

 

“Morning, sir.” Phil greeted. The blonde man who smelled a lot like an omega too rounded the edge of the bed to receive a press of lips to his temple from the beta. “If you were wondering, this is Clint.” 

 

“The castle’s resident sexbomb.” Clint said with an overly theatrical bow, bending in a way that shouldn’t be as comfortable as Clint made it seem. “But seriously, man, you got yourself a super cute cub.” 

 

“I know.” Tony murmured, smiling as he looked at her in his arms. He felt safe and vulnerable at the same time, like a beached whale and a water sprite mixed into one sluggish and yet weirdly vibrant body. Whilst his physical body ached something furious, his spirit couldn’t have been lighter - he was going to be able to be with his cub and watch her grow up! His joy seemed to roll out into his emotions because both Clint and Phil were smiling at him. 

 

“You’ve been out for a while,” Clint said. “The Queen set a medical guard around you morning and night, aka, us, to make sure you were okay, and when the cub was awake we made sure she was next to you so she could bond.”

 

“Thank you.” Tony said gratefully. 

 

“You’re welcome. I accept payment in forms of glazed fruit and dog food.” 

 

“Dog food?”

 

“For Phil. _Ow_.” 

 

Tony grinned as Phil swatted Clint over the head with a bundle of washed cloths. “Okay - _okay!_ It’s for our dog,” Clint clarified, picking up a bowl of soft, non-citrus fruits and bringing them over to Tony’s bedside table, stealing a piece in the process. Tony gratefully picked up a slice of banana and ate it, feeling it sate some of the hunger gnawing at his stomach. 

 

They didn't really talk about anything of importance, which Tony was glad of. He was more than happy to spend this moment getting to know his cub and, preferably, never letting her out of his sight again, rather than dealing with the multitude of new issues that had arisen within the past month. The couple before him were calm and spirited in measured doses and kept him entertained for the scant hour he managed to stay awake.

 

Before he fell asleep, Clint promised to keep his cub close and Tony passed out experiencing a deep, lingering sense of satisfaction. 

 

—

 

Clint and Phil weren’t around when he came to the next time. It was the midwife, Thelda, who helped him get comfortable with his cub, of whom she’d been keeping an eye on, and left him to go fetch something to eat. 

 

A knock on the door came around and Tony awkwardly told them to enter, more used to being the one on the other side, doing the knocking. The door swung open, revealing the smiling face of Maria. She was dressed somewhat informally, compared to how he’d last seen her, the deep green of her simple, one skirt gown (although he knew there would be petticoats and the such underneath) offset by pale gold lace ruffs at the elbow, and simple gold insert laced up with ribbon down the bodice. She radiated elegance and regality, but there was a gentleness to her that Tony found himself drawn to. It was very much the same feeling he’d had with Pepper and Natasha, both of whom had mothered him to within an inch of his life. 

 

“Good afternoon,” Maria greeted. Tony smiled, bowing his head. 

 

“Your majesty.” 

 

“Oh, please,” the Queen said, waving a negligent hand as she approached. “Call me Maria. It’s tiring hearing ‘your majesty’ at every hour of the day, my dear.” 

 

Tony didn’t reply but nodded, acknowledging her request. She approached, eyes drawn to his cub who still didn’t have a name. 

 

“She’s a dear little thing, isn’t she.” Maria said, her voice as smiley as her face. “Worth the wait?” 

 

“Very much. Worth the pain, too.” Tony admitted, cupping his cub’s head with a palm and bending to breathe in her scent. Maria laughed gently. 

 

“That’s a smell you’ll miss once they move past the newborn stage,” she commented. “I can vouch for it - two sons and yet I still yearn for that particular smell.” 

 

Tony’s brown furrowed. “Two sons, your m- Maria? Forgive me, but I only saw one - or I believe I did - in the great hall.” 

 

Maria nodded, glancing down at her skirts and wiping her hands along them, almost in a habitual, worrisome manner. “Yes. My youngest, Arno. I have an elder son who’s been missing for a long while.” 

 

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Tony murmured, clutching his cub tighter. He didn’t know how he’d cope if he ever lost her. The Queen huffed out a laugh, still gazing at her dress. 

 

“No worries, Anthony. I … it’s actually what I came here for.” 

 

“To talk about your lost son?”

 

“In a manner of speaking, yes. You see, the necklace you attempted to sell belonged to him.”

 

Tony’s heart sunk as he realised the implication of what she was suggesting. He shook his head. 

 

“I didn’t steal it, as far as I can remember, your majesty,” he said in a pleading tone, forgetting to ignore the honorific in favour of her forename. “I promise you I’ve had it for as long as I can recall, which isn’t that far.” 

 

Maria nodded. “No, no don’t worry about that. We … we know you didn’t steal it, Anthony.” 

 

Tony’s eyes narrowed in confusion, despite the sense of relief that spread through his chest. “What do you mean?” 

 

“Whilst you were unwell, we took the liberty of investigating your case fully. You were quite the conundrum to us, for, when we reached out, we found no tangible record of you in Lyn, despite their recent census. After we hit that roadblock, we asked for Obadiah. He hadn’t been recorded on the census either, despite informants who interrogated him telling us that he insisted he’d put his name down.” 

 

“He does spend a lot of his time drunk,” Tony said. “It’s possible he forgot to even go and thought he did - he does that a lot.” 

 

Maria shook her head. “He isn’t on the census in Lyn because he didn’t announce his arrival, Anthony. He’s been avoiding official registration in order to maintain a modicum of secrecy.”

 

Tony felt his throat close. “He’s a criminal?” he asked hoarsely. Maria nodded, looking half apologetic and half sad. 

 

“I’m afraid so.”

 

“I’ve been living with a criminal? Maybe - maybe he was the one to steal the charm, your majesty. Maybe he planted it on me, knowing maybe one day I’d do what just happened - he never liked me, so this isn’t particularly something out of the book.” 

 

Maria reached out to pat his knee underneath the blanket. “He didn’t plant it on you, Anthony. You are true when you say you’ve had it for as long as you can remember. That’s because it’s yours.” 

 

Silence rang like a bell. It buzzed in his ears like persistent flies, and his body went so rigid that his cub squirmed and let out a quiet mewl. Her cries roused him enough to relax again, though her could still feel his heart pounding through what felt like snowy fields, his chest pulsing with liquid ice. 

 

“Are you saying I’m your _son_?” Tony managed to choke out. Maria smiled, a little grimly, as though she understood how shocking it was to him. He turned away from the Queen, looking out of the closed windows into a cool blue sky. Heavy clouds that promised either snow or rain scudded through the cornflower canvas, and he thought perhaps he could see the bare arms of hibernating trees waving at the world. 

 

“I know it’s a lot, Anthony,” the Queen said softly. “But everything matches up with our own experiences. Obadiah used to be Howard’s close confidant and business partner. He wanted to strike up a deal not only with Hydra, the dissolved kingdom, but also with Terin, a kingdom across the boiling seas. They're a nation notorious for their blasé attitudes regarding the common people’s rights, and a tendency to favour bloodier forms of keeping people in line. 

 

“Howard said no. In recompense, Obadiah stole you away from us. We couldn’t believe, in the end, that that is what it boiled down to, but it’s what it was. Neither of us anticipated you turning up ever again. It was only a guard, James, who came to us and mentioned that you’d been singing Itinai lullabies in your cell that made me certain it was you. I am the only other person, aside from Arno, in this whole kingdom who knows the tongue of Itinai, and the lullabies are a family tradition.”

 

“But I don’t remember anything,” Tony whispered, half desperate not to be their missing prince. “I can’t remember _anything_ about this place.” 

 

Maria took in a breath. “That’s another issue that arose, Antonio. Whilst Lord and Lady Rogers were investigating Obadiah’s shortcomings, they had his home searched. It turned out he’d been paying an alchemist to provide him with a tonic that tampers with and eradicates memory. It’s highly illegal and, for that alone, we’ve imprisoned him.”

 

“He … he’s been poisoning me?” Tony asked, failing to find another word that suited this situation ; ‘duped’ was too word orientated, and ‘taking my memories’ seemed something more akin to a  fairytale. Even drugging, which is what it was, didn’t truly fit - he’d never noticed any side-effects, having put his memory loss down to a riding accident, as Obadiah had told him. Poisoning was a twisted sort of right: he’d been plying Tony with a drug without his knowledge that scored the memories from his brain and rendered him isolated: Tony had had nothing but his name as his own, suffering through the addled mind of an amnesiac for a long, long time, unsure of what his place in society had ever been. 

 

And whilst Obadiah hadn’t been a very nice man, Tony had sort of considered him a constant in his life. Before even Bucky and Steve and Bruce, Pepper and Natasha, Obadiah had always been there when he’d come back from the castle, to provide him with food and a bed. He’d kept a roof over Tony’s head and made sure he knew what not to do in this city. 

 

And it had all been a farce. 

 

Tony swallowed hard, noting that the Queen had her hand on his knee again. “It sort of makes sense,” he said. “But I … do you expect me to be a prince again? I don’t think I can.” 

 

“First and foremost, you are our son. You don’t need to worry over being a prince, Antonio. Worry about getting better and making sure your cub is strong,” she paused and Tony looked up at her. “I know it’s a lot to take in, sweetheart. I don’t think for a second that this will all be automatically okay - there’s a lot to sort out between us all, but for now just know that you’re safe here and we will always be by your side when you need us.” 

 

Tony felt his face grow tight as his eyes threatened to leak again. “Thank you.” 

 

The Queen shook her head, smiling. Tony was surprised to see her crying herself. “No. Thank _you_. For coming back to us. You’re both a gift we never thought we’d ever receive.”

 

She got up and came over to the head of the bed, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. It felt warm where he lips had touched, and Tony felt like the world, which had just turned on its axis, suddenly fell back into a weird sense of normalcy. 

 

“Get some rest.” 

 

Tony nodded and watched her go. 

 

—

 

The next day he received another visit from the Queen, this time accompanied by an excited Arno, who was not only eager to see his brother again (and their sibling-ship seemed to fall into place as if it had never been broken), but his new niece. 

 

Whilst Arno was pre-occupied with Tony’s cub, the Queen asked for Tony’s side of the story. Tony thought it best to start from the beginning, and explained how he’d ended up pregnant to begin with. The Queen didn’t seem surprised when he admitted that his baby girl was either Bucky or Steve’s and just kept quiet as he haltingly gave her the information she wanted. He kept some of the more boring details out - most of the journey wasn’t needed, although he said where he thought he’d picked up the illness. 

 

“You didn’t seem surprised when I revealed her potential fathers.” Tony said quietly. Maria smiled. 

 

“I guessed as much when they came battering at our front door a day after you gave birth.” Maria replied. Tony’s eyes widened. 

 

“What?” he asked, a bit too bluntly in the face of the Queen, even if she was his own mother (and wow, that was still a wild thought). The Queen laughed through her smile. 

 

“It seems as though threads have been crossed between you, Steven and James,” Maria said. “It is not my place to tell their story, but I can assure you that they did not mean to harm you or push you aside as it ended up. They are most insistent they still love you.” 

 

Tony considered this information. “Do they know about my cub?” 

 

“Did you ever tell them?” she asked in response. Tony shook his head ruefully. 

 

“I only found out after they announced their engagement,” he admitted. “I had aimed of getting out of Lyn for some breathing space, but I had a dizzy spell and thought it best to visit Cho, our apothecary, because it was the fourth one I’d had that day. She told me I was carrying.” 

 

“So they haven’t known this whole time? At all?” Arno piped up. Tony turned to his younger brother and shook his head. Arno raised an eyebrow, tickling his nieces’ toes. She squealed in response, reaching out for him. He scooped her up. “Wow. They’re in for a big surprise. Aren’t they! Yes!”

 

Whilst Arno continued to coo at his cub, Tony turned to Maria. “Are they okay?”

 

“They’re fine,” Maria said. “They’ve been desperate to see you, especially after they heard you’ve been sick. Aside from that, they don’t know anything else. It wasn’t my place to tell them about your baby.” 

 

Tony ducked his head. “Thank you.”

 

“You’re more than welcome, although you don’t really have to thank me.” Maria said, squeezing his knee. “Do you wish to see them?” 

 

Tony considered her offer and nodded hesitantly. “Can I freshen up, though? I feel like I’ve been rolling in a sewer.” 

 

—

 

Freshly bathed, Tony settled himself in a chair by the fireplace. He’d been in bed for a long while by then, so the change in both scenery and position was nice. Plus, the warmth emanating from the flickering fire heated his perpetually cold toes up. 

 

As he waited for the knock on the door, he cycled back through events passed. A lot had happened in a short space of time, and although it felt nice to know he wouldn’t be turned out on the streets with a new cub now, he sort of fancied it all a bit too good to be true. If this were one of Bruce’s romantic novels he secretly squirrelled away in his bedroom, Tony would be the star of the book; the one who got the wrong end of the stick and ended up having all the cliched but wonderful things eventually happen to him. 

 

If that was the case, Tony thought, then why did he feel so uneasy? A large portion of his unrest was accounted to the fact he was going to come face-to-face with the two alpha’s he’d thought didn’t love him anymore in a matter of minutes. There was no denying he felt sick at the thought of explaining himself  - he ran away from them without actually leaving a reason why, but underneath that all, he felt offish with the idea of being a prince. He didn’t _remember_ how to be one, and although the ease of life sort of appealed to him, his life with the horses and the happy-go-lucky comradeship he had with his friends back in Lyn called to him like a siren. 

 

He was a fool not to accept there and then, in some fashion. To live his life in comfort and ensure his cub grew up safe, healthy and happy wasn’t anything to be trifled with. He was aware of the opportunity he was being presented with, but deep in his heart he knew he just didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to have to preside over a nation, to deal with trials and misdemeanours. He didn’t mind helping people find their way if they were lost, or providing assistance to townsfolk who needed a bucket of water drawn from the well, but being in a position where your decisions directly affected a whole country frightened him. 

 

He shifted his sleeping cub in his arms as he mulled it over, entranced by the dancing fire. Could he abdicate? Could he just not come back home? 

 

But now, there was a chance Steve and Bucky might accept him more truly, thanks to this shiny new reality of his. 

 

But they liked him enough when he was a peasant, right? Could they possible lo-

 

“Sire?” 

 

Tony darted his eyes up to the door. It had creaked open during his musings, and he assumed he’d missed the knock. The royal butler, Jarvis, had his head around the corner, a kindly smile on his weathered features. 

 

“Lord Steven and Lord James await your presence.” Jarvis said. Tony sat up straight in his cushy chair at the mention of the alphas and took a fortifying breath before nodding at the butler to let them in. 

 

The men got about two strides into the room before Tony broke down, face crumpling with hot tears as his body finally _fully_ relaxed. A deep, painful cry erupted from his throat and Steve and Bucky approached without hesitation, wrapping him and his cub up delicately in their safe, warm arms. 

 

You may read novels and fiction about relationships that have been torn apart by a misunderstanding, and you may sit there as these three embrace one another and think ‘why would they accept each other again so easily when they have so much to sort out?’. But you have to remember that nothing burns as brightly and as deeply as true love; when the flame of desire and physical attraction simmers away, there is left behind a clear pool of trust and acceptance and understanding, even in the direst of situations. 

 

And in this situation, all three understood that, whilst their errors had been grave and everyone had, in some way shape or form, been hurt, nothing could quite eclipse the knowledge that they truly loved one another with the entirety of their hearts. There was a silent understanding of ‘we screwed up, but right now we need to be close’, and for a good half an hour, the two alphas knelt on the floor, having scooped Tony and his cub out of their chair, and sat with one another, sharing space and silence and serenity as their hearts slowed down and the tears dried up. 

 

Their conversation could wait.

 

—

 

After dinner, the dams broke. There were tears (from the adults and none from the newborn, who slept through the entire thing), hugs, chaste kisses to everywhere but lips and moderate level yelling, considering the tiny human being cradled in Tony’s arms. Bucky and Steve explained what had happened from their point of the misunderstanding, and apologised profusely for treating Tony so poorly. In retrospect, after he had all the facts lain out in front of him, Tony could understand why they had done what they’d done. It had been a marriage of circumstance in an attempt to save as many lives as possible, without being held at court for the illegal mergence of their armies. The only way around the King’s rule without being held on trial was to marry, and because Steve and Bucky had been an item for a long, long time, no-one batted an eyelid at the thought of them getting hitched. 

 

Bucky explained how it had all begun, that the root of it all technically lay with him, and Steve brushed the other alphas self-degradation off, saying that had they told Tony to begin with, when they began their relationship, this whole misunderstanding could have been avoided. 

 

“We were a pair of fatheads,” Steve said finally. “This could have been sorted if we’d talked, but we were so pissed with how things were going with getting rid of Hydra, we just came out and said we were getting married and we weren’t calling it off right in front of you.”

 

“Yeah, I can _remember_ that.” Tony grumbled sourly. 

 

“ _And_ we didn’t begin to think of how you’d see that. We didn’t value you as much as you valued us, ‘nd we’re idiots. Can’t begin to say how sorry we are, doll.” Bucky added sadly, turning his nose into Tony’s temple. They were sat curled around him again, unwilling to move after so long apart. Despite his quarrelling emotions, Tony didn’t want to let them go far either - especially now things were being shone with a new clarity of light. 

 

“Like I said,” Tony replied, shuddering at the touch. “I get it. I can’t say I’m not hurt, because I am, but I get it. If I were in the same situation and I wanted to protect either of you two, I’d keep you out of it, if possible.” 

 

“Still doesn’t excuse our behaviour.” Bucky grumbled. Tony smiled, glancing down instinctively. His cub was still fast asleep, tired out from the effort of eating earlier on in the day. Steve traced a single finger down her small cheek. 

 

“Y’think she’ll wanna be our page-girl?” he asked in Tony’s ear. Tony blinked, turning to look at his blonde alpha. 

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

“Our page girl. For when we get hitched.” Bucky clarified. Tony turned to look at him with much the same expression he had with Steve, and the brunette alpha’s eyes widened in realisation. “Oh shit, we didn’t tell you!”

 

“We’ve had the nuptials nullified,” Steve explained on a laugh, smile hopeful. “The priest back home was willing to overturn it, if the King and the head of the Church agreed too - we asked whilst you were recovering and they were more than happy.” 

 

Tony blinked, body awash with an ocean of emotions. Then:

 

“This isn’t your half-assed shite proposal is it?”

 

“Oh my _god_ , no.” Bucky exclaimed. “Jesus, doll. We’re abysmal at telling you what we’re up to, that’s clear, but we know when it’s time to grovel.” 

 

“There’s gonna be a lot,” Steve added, wrapping his arm tightly around Tony’s waist and rocking them side-to-side gently. “So get ready.” 

 

“I can see it now,” Bucky said theatrically, staring into a point in the distance as he held his arms aloft. “Steve and Bucky star in : The Grovelling Alphas. A total sell out.” 

 

“People will come from far and wide - ” Steve added, smiling as he felt Tony begin to twitch in the throes of laughter.

 

“ - to see us lament our own idiocy - ”

 

“ - buy your tickets and drinks now, folks - ”

 

“ - and settle in for the long haul, ‘cus it’s gonna be a long while - ”

 

“ - experience tears, joy, sofa sleeping, Tony withholding sex from us for about the next twelve years - ” 

 

“I don’t know about that,” Tony mused, interrupting the alphas as they got into their verbal parrying with one another. “I’m pissed, but I’m not above my libido - once it’s back.” 

 

“Well, we’ll wait until you want us back fully,” Bucky said, pressing a kiss to Tony’s temple and closing his eyes. “For however long, doll.” 

 

Tony leaned into his alphas, drawing his cub close to his chest. He felt calm and settled, eyes heavy with invisible weights. They had a long way to go before they could go back to how easy they had been with one another, but for now he was content to let his alphas grovel to him (he’d probably get irritated after a week, but whilst he was still recovering, he’d let them do the dirty moments of parenthood and everything else that was gross to begin with but you got used to after a while) (it’d be fun to see their faces and realise their precious girl was a stinky, poopy precious girl).

 

He let out a quiet, content sigh, wiggling back into his alphas as his eyes drooped shut.

Everything would be okay. 

 

—

 

_Epilogue_

 

The summer wedding ended up a lovely affair, carefully planned by Pepper and her now wife Natasha. Everything ended up a rich shade of crimson, navy blue, gold or white and Queen Maria had been quite invested in it too, with Howard just funding and sourcing it all, confused as to how a tablecloth could increase the joy of an evening that was meant for feasting and merriment (and eventually the naughty, he added with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Maria was unimpressed by both his insinuation and Arno snorting his red wine onto the starched white tablecloth). 

 

Whilst Tony was getting ready with Arno and the ladies, Howard took Bucky and Steve out on an early morning ride, and quite succinctly told them that if they harmed a hair on his or Emily’s head, no-one would ever find their bodies. Despite the threat, neither Steve nor Bucky took it too hard - they understood Howard’s desire to keep Tony safe after having him missing for so many years. His return had made him quite ill for a bit out of shock, but he’d recovered soon enough after Emily began to crawl and took great delight in using her grandpa as a climbing frame. 

 

Watching Tony walk down the aisle with Emily in his arms, Arno beaming with pride to his side, was a sight both Bucky and Steve knew they’d never ever forget. The tailors had pulled the cat out of the bag, crafting a sharp tailcoat the colour of cranberries to accentuate the dips and nuances of his body, a deeper crimson velvet making up the lapels and collar. Underneath the tails he wore a dove grey waistcoat and simple white shirt atop his ivory breeches and waxed brown lace-up long-boots. It replaced the usual pomp and ceremony of a royal military outfit, of which Tony didn’t have given his abduction many years before. 

 

In contrast to Tony’s understated elegance, both Bucky and Steve were dressed to the nines, and they stood at the altar in their finery, looking so in love that some feared they may burst at the seams. They were both in the custom dress of the Kings Army, smart navy blue tailcoats edged in deep gold, their countless medals a veritable rainbow against their breasts, white breeches and black long-boots. The only shining difference between them and their omega was the simple golden band perched atop of Tony’s head, gracefully dipping down to meet at a point just above his eyebrows (which had been ferociously waxed by an unsympathetic Natasha). It complemented his olive skin and wild brown hair that Pepper had promised she’d tried to tame, but Emily had just ruffled it all up again. 

 

Despite holding the official title of a prince, Tony hadn’t wanted the airs and graces that went with it. He hadn’t been a member of the royal family for so long that he had forgotten many of the rules and regulations that went with its role. Whilst Bruce had suggested he may remember things later on in life, he wouldn’t be able to recall everything, thanks to the potent mix of flowers and herbs that had been put into the tonic. 

 

Because of Tony’s reluctance to come back into the role of Crown Prince, it meant that the stability of the kingdom wasn’t pushed into upheaval and Arno wasn’t demoted. Whilst the younger brother had insisted he didn’t mind, Tony said he genuinely didn’t want the role and that Arno had the most experience not only with the comings and goings of royal life, but also that he had the wave down to a ‘T’. 

 

“I mean, how do you make your palm look stationary whilst actually waving your fingers?” Tony  had asked at one point. Arno rolled his eyes dramatically. 

 

“Lots of hours of being yelled at by my tutor and the threat of no pudding from Asha. I learned quickly.” 

 

So, instead of rescinding his position in the kingdom altogether, he remained as the on-and-off prince. He would only come to the castle to do ‘princely’ things when there were weddings, christenings and royal visits from other kingdoms, as well as whenever he wanted to see his family.

 

Other than that, he was to go home to Lyn with Bucky and Steve and live as they had; he could go back to his horses and his friends, to the familiarity of Sarah and Joe’s humour, to Harley’s teasing, Natasha and Pepper’s fierce mothering, and the rolling pastures that dipped down to the river meadows. It also meant that Emily didn’t have to grow up watched by the public too, something he greatly appreciated, even if they were lovely people. 

 

The ceremony itself was short and sweet, the tying of the ribbon followed by the priests’s holy words and the giving of the rings, in which Tony had to awkwardly stoop down to encourage Emily up. There was a round of ‘awh’s’ as she trotted up in her own finery, desperate to imitate her mummy in her tiny little trousers and smart, deep red coat. She pressed an eager kiss to Tony’s cheek as he took the ring for Steve, Steve for Bucky and Bucky for Tony.

 

A kiss (chaste from Steve and a little too dirty in front of the priest from Bucky) each and they were done, squinting under scattered petals thrown from their friends and family, as Emily squealed and tried to catch them, joy bouncing over her chubby cheeks. They headed outside to the cheers of the citizens and travellers who had come far and wide to see their union and waved, Emily nearly hitting Tony in the nose as she caught sight of her best friend, Peter, the apothecaries boy. 

 

Then they headed back to the castle, engaging in a night full of feasting and drinking (where Loki also placed his blessing on them all, as he’d been given the promise of all that time ago) (Thor didn’t have to beat him to the floor with his chamberpot, thankfully), before retiring early under the guise of putting Emily to bed. 

 

No-one worried too much, too busy eating their own weight in pork and sweet fruits and listening to Prince Thor’s tales of mighty conquests in lands afar. Rhodey, the guard who had tipped the Queen off about the lullabies and had thus risen up the ranks under his own steam to Captain of the Guard, gave his long-time best friend a tight hug as they left. They spent a lot of time together now, with Rhodey regaling him with tales of the hijinks they got up to when they were kids together. 

 

“I’m so happy you’re here, platypus.” Tony said. Rhodey laughed and let him go. 

 

“And I’m happy that you’re happy, Tones. I’m so glad everything worked out. Good luck!” he replied, giving them a knowing wink as Tony re-joined Bucky and Steve, the latter cradling a sleeping Emily in his arms. 

 

“If Carol has her way with you, it’s you who needs the luck, sweetie!” Tony called back as they left the room. Rhodey’s eyes widened in both shock and mild excitement at the mention of the Kings Army Captain, and Tony laughed most of the way to the western wing where they’d deliberately chosen for their rooms, as it was the furthest away from the party halls but close to the guards quarters for safety. 

 

Bucky and Steve watched as Tony took Emily from Steve’s arms and laid her down, putting her clothes in the basket in the corner for the maid to fetch in the morning. She was dead to the world, not even stirring when they all pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

 

Usually she wanted stories about her mummy and daddies, insisting they stayed until the fire died down. Tonight, however, she was exhausted from the day’s activities and Tony knew she’d sleep until probably nine tomorrow morning. He stroked her dark brown hair away from her forehead, for it had fallen loose from the plait Bucky had woven into it that morning, and tucked her cloth animal, hand-woven by Arno, closer to her so she wouldn’t wake up and interrupt them later. He blew out the candles and left. 

 

He closed the door, took his alphas by the hand, thumbs stroking reverently over the wedding bands, and led them away into the gloom of their room that promised not only a pleasant evening, but a joyous one. 

 

He was sure Emily would appreciate being told she was getting a baby sibling too. 

 

He smiled and let the night draw her careful fingers over their happiness as they stepped foot onto the next road of their lives with one another. 


End file.
